Frodo's Lost Tale, part 1: A Lord of the Rings sequel
by likeapolarbearlovessnow
Summary: "Frodo's Lost Tale" is a sequel to "The Lord of the Rings" told in first person by Frodo Baggins. It takes place after the end of "Return of the King" when Frodo is on the ship to the Grey Havens. This is part 1 of 2, and features Frodo, Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, and OC. Please comment!


Part 1

The Day of September 29, Year 3021 of the Third Age

In the years following the war for the ring, there were times when I just sat in silence. I sat listening to the sounds of nature outside my window and wondered what my life might have been like. I wondered where I would have been if I had not been chosen; if I had never left Bag End those many years ago. I knew the answer, of course. I would have been in the same place as I was now, sitting in the chair in my study, smelling the sweet scent of flowers through the open window. Though I would not have been the same; I would have be so very different.

When I was a child I dreamed of adventure. I traveled the many hills of the Shire with uncle Bilbo and imagined a world away from my own. I drank in Bilbo's words as he spoke of the world beyond the Shire; the mountains, the elves, the trolls, and other beastly creatures unbeknownst to us. The lives we led had seemed so dull to me. There was an entire world to see, land to explore, and creatures to meet beyond anything we could have imagined.

And in those times when I sat and thought, I realized that if I had never left the Shire I would have still been that child. I would still be dreaming, still be imagining the great wide world past my window: past Old Gaffer's potatoes, past the Green Dragon, past the mushrooms, past the hills and turrets of our land. And I would have been restless; almost as restless as I was now. For there was something that had not changed; I didn't want to be here. No more than I had wanted to be here before the ring had come to me. I was restless, and I wasn't meant for this world.

Now, I was leaving. I was on the ship, the last ship heading towards the Grey Havens. I had said goodbye to my friends. And I knew that all of my trials, all of my pain was left behind me on the shores. Yet, why did I feel so empty? All of my troubles were past. I should have been content with that. Yet, there was a sort of melancholy, a kind of sadness in knowing that my quest was over. I had fulfilled my purpose. I had saved the Shire, I had saved Middle Earth. My time was over.

I had left them behind. My friends, my faithful friends. Dear Merry and Pippin, and, worst of all, Sam. Sam had a future. He had a family, a wife and children. He had a life that I would never live. He had a purpose. I did not wish to be ungrateful or petty, but I would have given anything to have that life.

The truth remained that I did not have to leave the Shire. No one had forced me too. Yet the year of my journey plagued me each and every second of my life and there was no way out. I could still hear his voice, even on the brightest and simplest of days, plaguing my mind. I could see him. His eye watching my every move. I was broken, and I could no longer plague the lives of those who were whole.

There was an emptiness in the bottom of my stomach that I couldn't quite explain. It felt like giving up. Yet, I had nothing to lose- nothing except for the company of those I loved. Yet, there were all with me, I knew, in spirit. And, with me too were Bilbo and Gandalf whom I was more grateful for than words could express.

I stood at the edge of the ship, watching the land grow smaller and smaller in the distance. Gandalf stood beside me, his hands on my shoulders, looking down at me with a scruffy brow. "Are you ready for this, Frodo?" he asked quietly. I took a deep breath, and looked up into his old, yet wise and knowing eyes.

"I have to be," I said slowly, "I haven't a choice."

I expected Gandalf to contradict me. I expected him to say, _we always have a choice_, or some equal point of wisdom, but he did not. "No, I expect you haven't," he said with a sniff.

Bilbo sat nearby, staring at his own feet, tapping to a tune he was humming under his breath. I smiled sadly as I watched him. I used to feel as if he had seen so much of the world, was so old and wise. So why did I suddenly feel like I had seen more than he?

When I looked back off of the ship, I could no longer see the land. It was really over. The era of my life on Middle Earth was had ended. It was a peculiar feeling, knowing exactly what was coming. During my time as ring bearer I had never known what was to come. Now everything was laid out in front of me. There were no questions, no wonderings; but I couldn't say there were no regrets. Still, there was no use dwelling on the matter; what was done was done, and it was my time to move on. There was no use thinking about what might have been.

I wasn't sure how long it would take to get to the Great Havens, yet I doubted I had very long to wait. I leaned against the edge of the ship and closed my eyes, breathing in the warm, salty air. Ahead of us, all that could be seen was the bright, white, nearly blinding sun on the horizon. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw movement in the waters to the left of me- but it must have been only a trick of the light.

I looked up at Gandalf, now standing beside me, his face cast in shadow by the ship. I smiled as I saw him, suddenly reminded of the day years ago when he had come for Bilbo's party. "Gandalf?" I asked.

"Mmm?" said Gandalf, still watching the waves.

"Do you remember the party? Bilbo's party, I mean. Those many years ago?"

Gandalf looked down at me, a distant gleam in his eyes. "Yes," he mused, "You were a very clever young hobbit."

I smiled again. "And you were a very gray wizard." We both chuckled. I sighed sadly, wishing more than anything that I was back at that very party. Then again, I would have had my whole journey in front of me, and that I could not longer endure.

Suddenly, Gandalf and I looked back out to the ocean. We had heard a piercing cry. Our eyes searched the waves frantically. "What was that?" I asked. Instead of replying, Gandalf stepped away from the side of the ship and marched across the floor to the front. "Elrond, did you-"

"Wait!" I yelled suddenly. I had seen in the waves a figure swimming towards us. My eyes were fixed on the spot as I heard Elrond's and Gandalf's feet clomp over to where I was standing, my hand shaking as I pointed out to sea. The figure was struggling against the waves, its long hair tangled over its face. The figure made another strangled cry, and began frantically swimming over to the boat. As they approached, I could see that it was a girl with large brown almond shaped eyes, which were wide with terror. Elrond and Gandalf knelt down to the ledge of the boat as the girl approached.

I lowered my shaking hand and knelt down with them. Elrond reached out his hand to the girl and she grasped it, her hand very small and pale. "Ier lle eithel?" he spoke urgently to her. I knew enough of Elvish to know that he was asking her if she was well. She did not reply, just coughed as he pulled her onto the ship. I stepped back as she fell onto the deck, slipping in the water dripping off of her clothes.

I was astonished to see that she was a Hobbit, no taller than myself. She had long waist-length brown hair that was matted and dirty, and she was wearing a traditional hobbit's dress, which was ripped and torn in many places. Elrond was still kneeling before her, concern plastered on his face. Gandalf stood up, looking slightly suspicious.

"Kwentra amin mani essa lle auta ed?'" Elrond said urgently. The girl looked up at him breathing heavily, water dripping down her smooth face.

"What language do you speak?" she asked softly. Understanding creased Elrond's face.

"What is your name?" he asked, his voice even more urgent.

"Camelia Knotwise" she replied, standing up suddenly. Elrond knelt beside her as she gathered her tangled hair and rung it out over the ship. Gandalf looked from the girl to Elrond, and then walked over to the front of the ship where Galadriel still stood, watching the scene from afar. He whispered something to her.

"Why are you here? Did you mean to find us?" Elrond asked, his eyebrows creased into a single line. Camelia shook her head. "Not you, particularly. I came to find someone of my own kind." She stared boldly into his eyes as if she had every right to be standing before him.

Elrond looked at her just as intensely. It seemed that he wanted to get to the bottom of things. "Why? Were you separated from your people?"

"By my own right," she said fiercely, "I have not left by chance."

I watched for Elrond's reaction, but his face remained impassive. I decided to step forward. "Where are you from? Do you live in Hobbiton?" Her gaze shifted to me and she let her hair fall, cascading over the side of the ship. There was no flicker of recognition in her eyes. I couldn't pretend I wasn't unnerved. How could she not know who I was? Not that I relished that I was well known, but it was strange that she didn't seem to recognize me.

"No," she said, "I do not reside in the Shire. I'm from distant parts."

I shook my head, somewhat disbelieving. I had never met another Hobbit from another country. Especially not a Harfoot, as she seemed to be. I stared past her at the ocean, noticing suddenly that the ship had stopped. I wondered if it was Galadriel who caused its cease.

"So why have you come?" Elrond asked again, his voice becoming colder with every word. It seemed clear that the girl had been in no immediate danger, and he was clearly angry that she had interrupted their journey. Perhaps she did not understand what this ship was or the significance of where we were going. A couple of more hours and we would have departed from Middle Earth forever, and now that the ship had been stopped, I wondered if we would still be able to reach our destination.

It was true that it saddened me to leave my friends and bear the knowledge that I would never return to Middle Earth. Yet, now I felt as though returning would be even worse. In the Grey Havens there was no pain or longing or regret. In Middle Earth, all of these things were a reality that could not be escaped.

The worst aspect of life after my trial with the ring was the anniversary of my wounding on weather top. Although the blade was no longer inside me, I grew ill every year without fail. This, on top of all of the flashbacks from my journey, made life on Middle Earth almost unbearable. I closed my eyes and tried to muster as much strength as I could. I heard the girl speak, her voice growing stronger.

"I am journeying to the Shire. My country is being overtaken by men, and I have left to find help."

"What country is this you speak of?" Elrond's voice said. I could hear muttering from the front of the ship where Gandalf and Galadriel were clearly discussing the matter. Behind me, I could still hear the tapping of Bilbo's feet and his humming. Poor old Bilbo; I doubted he was at all aware of what was going on. I hoped that when we reached the Grey Havens he would regain some of his old self.

"Of the name I can not speak. I only ask that you take me to Hobbiton so that I may take my query there," replied Camelia.

I opened my eyes and looked at her in astonishment. It seemed rather rude of her to be expecting this from complete strangers, especially when she wasn't even gracious enough to give us the name of her country.

"I'm afraid that's impossible," Elrond said slowly, "Who do you claim has taken over your country?"

"Men from Gondor. Those who did not agree with King Aragorn's crowning. They've been taking over our land piece by piece, and they have begun to enslave us." She turned to me, her eyes cold, "I daresay your people had a similar issue not long ago. "

"Yes," I agreed, frowning, "But I was not there to see most of it." Camelia looked at me curiously. I wondered if she had begun to suspect who I was. In any case, I wasn't sure that I believed her story. After all of the terrible things that happened to their people, why would the men of Gondor want to leave after Aragorn's crowning? Was he not someone who would bring them peace and strength? I wanted to believe that men were good and wise, but what this girl said was completely contradictory to everything I had forced myself to accept as true.

"If you take me there," Camelia said stiffly, turning back to Elrond, "I will explain everything. There is no time to waste. My home is being destroyed as we speak."

Elrond raked his forehead with his fingers. "Can you not go by yourself, hobbit? You can swim, I presume?" Camelia's eyes narrowed and she cast me an accusatory look.

"Yet other Hobbits can have free rides? Is that not favoritism, sir?" she spoke in a voice full of mock respect.

Elrond had clearly lost the last of his patience. He was a kind elf by nature, yet did not appreciate disrespectfulness nearing animosity. "Do you know who this _other_ hobbit is?" He asked, "and on another note, do you have any idea who _I_ am?"

"No, but I-"

"Well, allow me introduce you. This is Frodo Baggins, ring-bearer and destroyer of the ring of power." I watched Camelia's eyes widen as she looked at me, understanding finally passing over her face. She bowed slowly, her eyes fixed on mine the whole time.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Baggins. Pleased to meet you," she sounded ashamed and she blushed in embarrassment. She turned back to Elrond, "And are you Elrond, son of Earenedil?" Elrond nodded, and she bowed to him. "You are sailing to the Grey Havens, aren't you?" she asked quietly, "I heard that you were. I heard that Frodo Baggins was leaving with his uncle and the honorable Elrond," she made another slight bow in his direction, "and Lady Galadriel and the great wizard Gandalf were rumored to be leaving also."

I looked up at Gandalf and Galadriel at the front of the ship. They were no longer talking, but eying Camelia. They seemed to be drinking in every word she uttered.

"Excuse me for my rudeness," Camelia said again, respect leaking from her words. Yet, even now, she seemed to radiate confidence. "I will have to find a different way." She made as if to dismount from the boat. No one moved or said a word, and no sound could be heard except Bilbo's continued unidentifiable humming. Just as she was about to jump off the ship, I found my voice.

"Wait!" I yelled. Every head snapped in my direction; Camelia on the brink of jumping. I turned to her and lifted my head higher. "How can you go? You do not know the way." She stared at me and I had the feeling that she was thinking fast.

"No, but I expect I shall find someone-"

"No," Gandalf said from the front, "Frodo's right. We cannot abandon this girl. Not when she has been brave enough to come this far." I seemed to know what Gandalf was going to say before he said it. "No more can we take her to the Shire," he said.

"What are you saying, Gandalf?" asked Elrond slowly. But Gandalf was not looking at Elrond. His eyes were locked on Camelia, who stepped away from the edge of the ship.

"My people are the only ones I need," Camelia said, "We have all seen what Hobbits can do. What _only_ Hobbits can do. "

"Yes," mused Gandalf, "But this is not the same. You may be stout of heart, but that will not always save you. Especially if it should come to battle."

"What other choice do I have?" Camelia asked. Her voice was strong, but now fear seemed to mix with her confidence.

"We will go with you to your country, wherever it is. And we will help you in every way we can, gathering an army if need be."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Neither, apparently, could Elrond. "What are you saying, Gandalf?" he said. Gandalf broke his gaze with Camelia to reply.

"We cannot let her people suffer. We have no right to run away when there is still a war to be fought."

"That is for someone else to deal with," Elrond said harshly, "Our time is over here. It is time to move on, Gandalf." he began pacing on the small ship, his long robes billowing around him as the breeze picked up.

"We can not abandon those in need, Elrond. Surely, you know that. There will be another time-"

"This _is_ the time. There _is_ no other time," Elrond said, stopping his pacing to glare at Gandalf, "it is up to King Aragorn to deal with his people, not us."

"Yes, and a lot of time he will have, too, with a kingdom to run," Gandalf said, his voice full of sarcasm. Elrond resumed his restless pacing.

"If her story is true, this cannot be ignored. Aragorn with have to act. It will be his job to supply an army, if it comes to it."

Gandalf shook his head in indignation. Camelia and I watched transfixed as they argued. I wasn't entirely sure myself who I wanted to prevail. Gandalf did have a point; it seemed churlish to leave at a time of great need. However, I agreed with Elrond; we had done our tasks and it was someone else's turn. I didn't think I could face another war, not after everything I had been through.

"Where is this country?" Gandalf asked Camelia.

"Over the Mountain of Loom, west of the Misty Mountains," said Camelia stoutly. She seemed more willing to tell us now that she knew who we were, "I can show you the way, if you'll follow me." Gandalf still looked slightly dubious.

"And how did a whole country of Hobbits get so very far away from Hobbiton?" he asked. Camelia smiled, almost knowingly.

"So it's true," Camelia said softly, "You don't know. You never heard how it happened."

"No…" said Gandalf, one of his bushy eyebrows raising skeptically. "What is it you speak of?"

"We were banished," Camelia said bluntly, "hundreds of years ago."

I stared at her. I had never heard of such a thing. I couldn't imagine any Hobbits banishing anyone. Why would they need you? Elrond seemed to have heard enough.

"Come now, Gandalf," he said, again halting his pacing, "Do you really believe this? Don't you think we would have heard if this had happened?"

"Maybe," Gandalf mused slowly, "but since when have most big folk concerned themselves with the likes of Hobbits?"

"Still," I said quietly, "I would think us Shirefolk should know about it at least."

"You wouldn't" Camelia said quickly, "My father said it was very covered up in your parts."

"She could be a spy," Elrond interjected.

"A _Hobbit_ spy?" said Gandalf.

"Stranger things have happened," Elrond snapped.

"I don't think so," Gandalf said dismissively. He turned back to Camelia, "How long did it take you to get here?" he asked kindly.

"About a month," she said without hesitation, "But I may be quicker than most."

"That's settled then," said Gandalf with a smile.

Elrond looked incensed. He stared at Gandalf exasperatedly. But I could see the resignation in his eyes, and I knew that Gandalf had won.


End file.
